Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 103104 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103104 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
He lifts me closer to his face as he leans his head over and uses his sleeve to wipe his nose. “Caught by the charity case. Don’t tell Knox, ’kay? Our secret?” He gives me a pleading look then shuts his eyes briefly. “Ava, I’m a dick, okay, a giant fucking asshole, but you know I didn’t hit you out there. And I’m sorry I gave you grief your first day here. It wasn’t about you—it was about me.” He chews on his bottom lip hard, like Knox does, and he looks so much like his brother.
I sigh. “Just let me down, okay? I can walk.”
His arms tighten around me. “You had a panic attack then almost passed out. You tried to beat me up, pathetic attempt that it was. Plus, Knox would want me to take care of you.”
I grunt. “I used to think you two weren’t anything alike, but you’re both stubborn.”
He arches a brow. “I’m the charming one. He’s the heavy.”
“Good heavens!” Mrs. Carmichael exclaims as Dane saunters into the office with me like he does it every day. “What happened?” She leads the way to the hallway to the left that connects to the nurse’s station.
“Someone jumped her outside the gym. Hit her on the head,” Dane mutters darkly. He eases me down and she promptly makes me sit on a cot then proceeds to hammer me with questions while yelling for the nurse. I haltingly explain what happened. She frowns and dashes off, mumbling about an incident report.
A nurse comes over with a penlight and checks my eyes, tells me I don’t have a concussion, just a small lump on my head. Dane lingers, taking a seat in the corner to watch me.
A few minutes later, Mrs. Carmichael is back and hands me a folder. “Just fill these out when you can, and the headmaster will probably want to see you later.” She looks over at Dane. “You need to get back to class.”
He gives her a wide grin, eyes a little spacey. “Ah, Maxine, come on, I’m the hero here—let me make sure she’s okay.”
She puts her hands on her hips.
He grins. “Just let me hang out for five minutes, cool?”
She huffs but seems to decide to ignore him and look at me. “Dear, is there someone I can call to check you out?”
I huff out a laugh. Someone to call?
“I’m eighteen. I can check myself out.”
“Of course. Sorry. I thought you might want to go to the clinic in town,” she offers.
I don’t need those bills, and I’ve had worse. “I just need some Band-Aids for the cuts on my knees.” I flash my elbows where my shirt is torn and grimace. “These too, I guess.”
The nurse is already swabbing them with alcohol and heading to a set of white drawers to pull out bandages.
Mrs. Carmichael frowns and gives me a nod then looks at the nurse. “Fine. Just rest here until you feel like going to class.”
Eventually, the nurse leaves me and I stretch out on the cot, a long exhalation leaving my chest. My socks were torn in the fall, and I glare down at them. I really need more uniforms.
“Why are you still here?” I say to Dane as he taps on his phone. “I’m fine now. No one’s going to bother me back here.”
He glances up at me. “Do you really want me to leave?”
No.
“Suit yourself,” I mutter and flip over, yanking on the thin covers the nurse left. Facing the wall, I close my eyes and allow myself to crack, just a little, biting my lip and holding back the tears that haven’t stopped wanting to come out. Now that it’s quiet, the event replays in my head, leftover adrenaline and anger rushing through my veins at how helpless I was. Again.
Somehow I fall asleep, my body slowly relaxing to the everyday sounds of Mrs. Carmichael talking on the phone in the next room and the noise of teachers walking down the corridor to their break room. Later, I wake to voices speaking in hushed tones several feet away.
I ease over and see Dane and Knox, their heads close, and I hear my name.
“Whoever it was, they whacked her good,” Dane mutters. “She was on the fucking ground, brother. Somebody hurt her here right under our noses—”
“You’re awake,” Knox says, striding over to me. “You okay?”
I sit up, gripping the edge of the cot and wincing at the brief bite of pain from moving so fast. “Fresh as a daisy.”
“Liar,” he mutters and rubs his hand over the back of my head, barely ghosting over the lump there. I freeze, wanting to arch into him, hating that I enjoy the attention from him. “Still hurting?” He bends down to me, and it almost seems as if he might touch my face, but he doesn’t, letting his hand fall.